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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28694004">City of Cinder</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitchcock_winter/pseuds/hitchcock_winter'>hitchcock_winter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Emergency! (TV 1972)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AO3 exclusive, Angst, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Slash, frustrated Roy, insecure Johnny, like I said the usual, oblivious idiots, slightly different twist, the usual, they're kind of dramatic in this one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:00:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28694004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitchcock_winter/pseuds/hitchcock_winter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though something inside Roy had shifted, had him looking at Johnny in a different way, it was worth ignoring, worth living through if it meant Johnny was there. But lately, Johnny was drifting away from Roy, and Roy had no idea why.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roy DeSoto/Johnny Gage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>City of Cinder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Spoiler alert: it's another first-kiss Roy POV. Hopefully it's different enough than the others to not be repetitive. This will be the last of these, most likely. Probably. Hopefully. Oh yeah, and thank you *yet again* to Guardy/@johnnys-green-pen for being my second set of eyes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h4>Thursday.</h4><p>LA was a city of cinder, sometimes, at least that was the city they saw from the station, the one that sharpened its teeth on pot-of-gold dreams and scorched its citizens with flames of fervour. It made people reckless, hapless, consumed. It’s what gave Station 51 a job.</p><p>Roy wasn’t one to dream of lavishness and fame. But right now, in his bunk, with the lights out and the shadows waltzing the walls with the curtain-hushed beams of city traffic, he realized he knew a little bit about longing.</p><p>Maybe a lot about longing.</p><p>Roy lay on his stomach, his head turned out and his eyes half-open, agonizing wakefulness mingling with fatigue-slicked stillness. His partner was facing him from his own bunk, long dark lashes twitching with a dream, mouth painted in a sleep-set pout, cheeks pink with the warmth of slumber. </p><p>Roy occasionally met his insomnia like this, in the rise and fall of Johnny’s chest or back, in the veiled light of the hallowed-black evening ghosting across Johnny’s delicate features. </p><p>Sometimes Roy wondered if he’d sleep better if maybe he could hold Johnny, crawl into that twin bunk and put his arms around him, and feel his hard edges and warm, smooth flesh tucked safely beneath him.</p><p>Johnny, strictly speaking, was a man. He loved chasing pretty girls and liked SUVs and motorcycles and rock climbing and hiking. Johnny was more than that, of course  – most people were. But Johnny was also… kind of a beautiful man. </p><p>Beautiful enough to make Roy sigh, beautiful enough to make him forget to breathe, beautiful enough that he lay in his bunk, blinking blearily at his partner, feeling a fervour for something he would never taste, haunting him into the see-all night.</p><p>These days, the radiating pang of stealing late-night looks hurt even more, because Johnny was drifting away from Roy, and Roy had no idea why.</p><p>It had started subtly, or at least it would have if Roy hadn’t been Roy. If Roy hadn’t been Johnny’s partner and best friend for the past three years, if he hadn’t always known his partner’s exact mood without words, without saying.</p><p>But lately it was more overt, with Johnny silent and shunning, like something weighty had fallen upon him, or maybe between them. His once shiny smiles and animated expressions had been traded for a wan guise, a ghost of a presence imprinted on Station 51.</p><p>Something was hurting Johnny, pulling him away, smothering his glow, the radiating red embers that were his existence. And Roy wanted to help, wanted to make it all go away, but Johnny wouldn’t talk to him.</p><p>Johnny barely said anything at all these days.</p><p>And Roy was scared. Especially now, with the traffic chasing the shadows on the wall and down Johnny’s face, across the folds of his body tucked in his blanket, across the distance between them, inches and miles, because he didn’t want to lose him.</p><p>He couldn’t lose him.</p><p>Losing Johnny would mean losing part of himself, because after all this time, Johnny was welded, was fused deep inside Roy. And it would destroy another part of him too, the one that he feared and kept concealed and maybe, just maybe, the part of himself that he liked the best.</p><p>Roy’s breath hitched at his hopelessness and rolled to the other side, eyes meeting the pitiless, brown wall. He traced the bricks with his finger, trying to forget the hollowness of his best friend ignoring him, forget the way it scorched when Johnny perpetually walked away, until he finally fell into the fitful oblivion of slumber.</p><p> </p>
<h4>Sunday.</h4><p>The cab was so quiet that they could hear the steel shift and the tires crunch and the deep rumble of the diesel engine as Roy backed the squad into the bay.</p><p>Roy was exhausted from the silence. He was drained by it, heartsick from it, desperate to hear anything out of Johnny that wasn’t about life signs or lifelines or lactated ringers.</p><p>He threw the truck into park and spoke before Johnny had a chance to open his door.</p><p>“Johnny,” He paused, and cleared his throat, because damn it was hard for him to say words right now. “Johnny, did I do something?”</p><p>And Johnny froze, and didn’t meet his eyes, like he hadn’t met his eyes for what felt like days, weeks, maybe a whole month.  </p><p>“Nah,” Johnny said with a weak half-smile but still did not look over, stared at the dash instead. “Not a thing.”</p><p>Roy frowned, a burst of hurt and anger lighting up inside at the non-answer. “Then what? It’s not me it’s you?” He gripped the steering wheel, seeking comfort from it, terrified of what the answer was.</p><p>This time, Johnny did look at him, and his eyes were dark and full of a pain and sadness that Roy hadn’t expected, and it crashed into Roy, leaving him stunned and breathless. “Something like that,” Johnny said, and then he slipped out of the cab.</p><p>Roy took a moment to regain his composure, before climbing out and trailing behind him like a soot-soaked shadow, doomed to never quite catch up.</p><p>They didn’t talk for the rest of the shift.</p><p>And Roy’s phone calls on their time off once again went unanswered.</p><p> </p>
<h4>Wednesday.</h4><p>Roy left Cap’s office and stood outside the door, stunned, the whole heavy, midnight tide of the revelation surging up, up, leaving him drowning. And he couldn’t breathe, because of the tide, because it was so unexpected, because it kind of felt like the end.</p><p>He found himself in the washroom, gripping at the sink, cold porcelain cutting into his palms, reminding him that he was still at work and that the city was still a beautiful mess of hopes and blood and bones and Station 51 was still there to help patch it up, wash it down, hopefully keep the extra marrow out of the ground – despite what Roy had just learned.</p><p>Betrayal burned through his veins, singing his insides as the shock wore off. He didn’t even know he could feel like this, like the life had been stolen from his lungs, like there was nothing he could do about it. He needed to find Johnny, now.</p><p>After peeking into the dorms, he blustered into the kitchen, though he knew he wouldn’t find his partner there. Johnny had been scarce all day in the way he always was as of late, in what Roy had assumed was the same solemn John Gage mystery.</p><p>Turns out there was nothing typical about his partner this shift.</p><p>Roy followed his ever-steady intuition and went outside. The sky was dark with dusk and clouds and about to open up, they’d been expecting a storm the entire day. It was in the air, thick and threatening, mingling in Roy with lungs full of that high tide shock.</p><p>Johnny was on the hose tower. Cap would skin him if he found out he was up there after dark. Roy half considered telling Cap, served him right, would still be nothing compared to… to this.</p><p>But Roy wasn’t that kind of person. Never was. Through it all, Johnny was still… Johnny. </p><p>Roy began to ascend, the cool rungs surprisingly tangible when all else seemed surreal. He hated this climb, hated being that high off the ground without someone to save. He strongly opposed hose duty for that reason, and he’d only chased Johnny up there a couple of times before, preferring to wait until his partner was on solid ground before wrangling his woes out of him.</p><p>He’d really planned on taking the calm approach, cautiously coaxing out whatever had his partner ebbing away, making senseless, selfish decisions, but now that he was all the way up here, looking at him, watching him not even bother to turn his head and acknowledge Roy, Roy was goddamned angry again.</p><p>He didn’t know what to say, so he said, “What the hell are you doing up here? The sky is gonna light up any minute.”</p><p>Johnny blinked in surprise and looked up, as if this was news, as if the guys hadn’t been talking about it at dinner, as if the storm hadn’t been building all goddamned day.</p><p>Maybe it <em> was </em>news. Johnny had been out of it all day, blinking dazedly at nothing when they weren’t on a run, completely avoiding conversation and eye contact and Roy and even the guys altogether, even more so than usual.</p><p>At least now Roy knew why.</p><p>“Were you <em> ever </em>gonna tell me?” Roy spat it out with such vehemence that it surprised both of them. Johnny started and stared at him, eyes wide and hurt, mouth parted, but he didn’t say anything, he was still the silence that had settled over the city, waiting for the sky to crack.</p><p>“Move over, would ya?” Roy growled, and Johnny didn’t argue, just scooted so that there was enough room for Roy to pull himself up and sit next to him.</p><p>It was a tight fit, the tower wasn’t meant for lounging. Johnny was pressed up against him and it sent a wave of everything through Roy again, a whole rush of betrayal and confusion and… something else.</p><p>Something devastating, something kind of like being buried alive, something Roy couldn’t look too closely at or this would maybe be his last chance to breathe ever again.</p><p>The traffic on the 405 felt muted, felt somewhat absent, as if Angelenos were actually settling in for the night, pausing the chase and the pulse of it all until morning.</p><p>Roy looked over and Johnny’s eyes were light with the metropolitan glow of the evening, and they were tumultuous, reflecting the storm that menaced intangibly just above their heads. The look Johnny had, like he, too, knew it was the end, carved into Roy somehow deeper even than the betrayal.   </p><p>“Are you going to say <em> anything</em>?” Roy’s voice still had an edge, and it was unlike him, and he didn’t care. It was like the past three years didn’t even matter so why should he spare John Gage’s feelings during the last shift they had together?</p><p>“He wasn’t supposed to tell you until after.” Johnny’s voice was smoke in the air, quiet and dark and barely there.</p><p>“Until after you were gone.” </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Roy sat there, rage boiling up, hardening his jaw and his will to get the truth, to change his partner’s goddamned mind. “After three years, that’s it? That’s goodbye? No wait – you weren’t even going to say goodbye. You were just going to, what? Disappear? Slide off the face of the earth, like none of it ever fucking mattered?”</p><p>Again, he surprised both of them. Roy didn’t know where this was coming from, he’d never felt this angry before, and Johnny looked like Roy’d slapped him, his glowing eyes were wide and his brows pinched and his mouth, always open.</p><p>“Roy –”</p><p>“No, I don’t want your excuses, Johnny. I want you to tell me. Tell me you were leavin’ without saying goodbye. Look me in the face and tell me that.”</p><p>Johnny looked at him, solemn and soft, but he didn’t say anything, and Roy heard all he needed to hear.</p><p>“Why, Johnny?” The anger had thinned somewhat, leaving Roy with the squeeze of desperation, the necessity to claw his way through the surface of this, to dig them both out of six feet under and save them, bring them back for a tomorrow, for another shift.</p><p>“Why what?” Johnny asked softly.</p><p>Roy growled, incensed again. “Don’t play games, Johnny, you know what I’m asking. Why are you transferring? Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”</p><p>A ghost of a smile played upon Johnny’s lips. “I knew… knew you’d try to talk me out of it.”</p><p>“Damn right,” Roy huffed. He eyed the shifting clouds, trying not to focus on the <em> something else </em> that had burrowed inside his chest with sharp teeth and claws and a hold on his heart. “And <em> why </em>are you transferring?”</p><p>Johnny paused, his eyes turning back to the highway, though it seemed as if he wasn’t seeing that perpetual stream of headlights and taillights, white and red flashes in the evening. “I can’t tell you.”</p><p>“What?” Roy’s voice was sharp again, and Johnny flinched.</p><p>“I can’t. I’m sorry. I…” Johnny’s eyes searched the dark in front of him, and his eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth a set line like when he was upset, truly upset, like when they’d been accused of theft or when Drew died. </p><p>
  <em> Johnny didn’t want to leave. </em>
</p><p>It hit Roy with a bit of a shock, and then something new came over him. Fear. Whatever had Johnny running was big, was important, was maybe the monster that kept him from Roy all these past weeks.</p><p>It was bad.</p><p>“I don’t understand why you can’t tell me,” Roy said.</p><p>“I just can’t. I-I’m sorry, Roy.”</p><p>“I <em> thought </em>we were friends.”</p><p>The blow fell hard, like Roy knew it would, like the one he got in Cap’s office and Johnny turned quickly as if he were struck.</p><p>“I thought we were <em> best </em>friends.”</p><p>“W-we are,” Johnny said painfully.</p><p>“Coulda fooled me.”</p><p>“Roy…”</p><p>“I was never going to see you again, after tonight. Was I? Is that something a friend would do? Just… leave, without saying anything?” Roy let out a shaky breath. He was done being angry. Now he just, just hurt. And it was insane. He’d had friends drift in and out of his life before. The way he was reacting, so viscerally, so emotionally – he hated it, and he hated what it meant.</p><p>A flash of lightning ripped through the sky, finally, white-hot rage painting all of Johnny’s angles sharp and sorrowful and beautiful, so beautiful.</p><p>Roy wondered what would happen if lightning hit the hose tower, just then. Wondered if it mattered, really.</p><p>“DeSoto! Gage!” Cap’s voice rang out from below them, startling them both. “Get your asses down here, <em> now</em>!” </p><p>The thunder hit then, and it didn’t sound nearly as angry as Cap did. They didn’t need to be told twice – any forthcoming words would soon be consumed by the smothering ferocity of the storm anyway.</p><p>When his feet hit the ground, Johnny all but disappeared, brushing by Roy without a word.</p><p>Cap was there, arms crossed and mouth open for what had to have been a reprimand, but there must have been something in Johnny’s face to give him pause. He let him walk by, shot Roy a sympathetic look and said, “Lights out.”</p><p>Roy sighed and followed him inside, lingering in the kitchen long enough to avoid Johnny getting ready for bed.</p><p> </p>
<h4>Wednesday night.</h4><p>Roy knew about longing, and Roy knew about Johnny.</p><p>At least, he thought he knew about Johnny. Thought he knew all about the things that made him happy, like compliments from Cap and playing sports with the guys and just spending time with Roy, in comfortable silences and excited conversation and contented smiles. Thought he knew all about the things that upset him the most, like being dumped or having his integrity questioned or losing someone, anyone, that he loved or tried desperately to save.</p><p>And he knew just about every noise. He was familiar with the feel of his exasperated sighs, his vibrant agitation, his silent sorrow. He knew by sound when Johnny was sullen, excited, contemplative, sleeping. Right now, Johnny was definitely not sleeping. But he was pretending to. </p><p>And so was Roy.</p><p>Roy was facing the partition, painfully aware that he was down to the last hours, the last moments he was going to have with Johnny. </p><p>Under normal circumstances, having Johnny transfer out of 51 did not mean Roy'd never see him again. They’d always been friends outside of work. The paramedic program was the catalyst, but they were entrenched in each other's lives. Working at different stations shouldn’t end their friendship in the way it’d end their partnership.</p><p>But something about this, now, had the credits rolling.</p><p>And Johnny hadn’t denied it.</p><p>Roy heard his partner quietly sit up, hesitating in the stillness of the evening before pulling on his bunkers and leaving the dorm. </p><p>It was raining, the subdued sound punctuating Johnny’s lingering absence. Roy sighed, trying to run from his thoughts into sleep, but it was as futile as the rest of the day had been.</p><p>He never imagined there would be a goodbye.</p><p>He’d been so certain Johnny’d be there forever that any other possibility, any other alternate Johnny-less timeline had never, not once, crossed his mind. He thought his best friend would always be around, to pull him out of burning buildings and to be saved from his own freefalls through collapsing floors. To share beers and accomplishments and the failures that no one blamed them for but themselves.</p><p>And even though something inside Roy had shifted, had him looking at Johnny in a different way, had him breathless with pangs of wistfulness in his chest some days or most days or everyday, it was worth living through if it meant Johnny was <em> there</em>.</p><p>Maybe he didn’t know anything about Johnny afterall.</p><p>He felt pathetic, felt frozen, felt impossibly stupid for everything bouncing around in his head. </p><p>And then he couldn’t take it anymore. Roy got up to find his partner.</p><p>The day room was dark, shadows only subdued by the flickering of a nearly-mute television set. Roy saw Johnny sitting on the couch, knees pulled up and arms wrapped around them as he stared at the set with dull, glassy eyes.</p><p>Johnny’s cheeks were wet.</p><p>Roy cleared his throat so he wouldn’t startle him, and Johnny swiftly swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Roy hesitantly walked over and sat down on the couch beside him.</p><p>“Go back to bed, Roy,” Johnny muttered, eyes on his knees.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Johnny frowned. “I-I – you – I wanna be alone.”</p><p>“Sure seems that way. I just don’t understand why.”</p><p>“Just drop it, Roy. I’m sorry, but you – I need – just drop it, okay?”</p><p>“You know I can’t do that.” Roy cleared his throat, and this time he was the one having a hard time looking at Johnny. “This – <em>you</em> – mean too much to leave it like this.”</p><p>Johnny sighed and dropped his knees so that he was sitting cross-legged. He picked at something invisible on his bunkers. “I can’t give you what you need.”</p><p>Roy glanced over to study him. He was pale and drawn, with red eyes and dark smudges underneath. Moisture had collected on his lashes. Roy wanted to lean over and wipe them dry. </p><p>Roy wanted… so much right now, but he’d settle for an answer. Any answer.</p><p>“Why, Johnny? You used to be able to tell me anything.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>They were quiet for a moment, rain highlighting the silence, making the room seem smaller with its steady, inescapable beat. The occasional flash of lightning fought with the TV for dominance in the dark room. Roy painfully wondered why Johnny couldn’t just make something up, just give him a reason, any reason that didn’t involve Roy having done something to push him away. But Johnny didn’t believe in lying, at least not about the real things. Which meant that whatever was going on was so bad that he’d chosen to stay silent, to push Roy away, to abandon Roy instead of telling him the truth.</p><p>“It’s better if you don’t know,” Johnny waved a hand. “Jus-just trust me, okay?”</p><p>“Trust you like I trusted you to always be there for me?” It was cruel. It pierced Roy as he said it, but he needed the truth. </p><p>“It’s not – not like that Roy.”</p><p>“Then what is it like?”</p><p>“It’s like – it’s like... just forget it, okay?” </p><p>“I am not going to <em> just forget it</em>,” Roy growled.</p><p>“Well you don’t have a choice.” Johnny’s voice pitched with his agitation.</p><p>Roy gaped at him. “What has gotten into you?”</p><p>“Nothing. Nothing. I just told you –”</p><p>“Just drop it.”</p><p>“That’s right.”</p><p>“Just like you’re dropping everything we’ve worked for.”</p><p>Johnny frowned. </p><p>“If you cared anything about me, about us, you’d tell me Johnny, if you cared at all...” </p><p>Johnny’s eyes flashed then, looking up at Roy quickly. “How can you – of course I care, dammit. How can you say that?”</p><p>“Because you sure aren’t acting like it,” Roy shot back. Then he sighed, and wiped a hand over his face. “Look, I’m sorry Johnny.” He went to drop his hand on Johnny’s arm, knowing that he’d riled Johnny up, knowing that his touch calmed him down.</p><p>Johnny pulled away, hands in the air and jaw hardening. “Ughn – you – don’t.”</p><p>Surprised, Roy held his palms up in a conciliatory motion. “Hey, I was just going to…” Again, he went to touch Johnny, to show him what he meant to do.</p><p>Johnny pushed Roy’s hand away and shot up off the couch so quickly Roy was stunned. “I said leave me alone, Roy!” His eyes widened and glanced to the door to the engine bay. Seemingly panicked, he turned toward the parking lot door, changed his mind and took a couple steps toward the bay door, and then switched directions again to rush outside.</p><p>Roy sat there frozen, completely at a loss. For the first time since getting to know Johnny, he was out of his depth. John Gage was ebbing further and further away in some dark ocean of uncertainty and Roy couldn’t find his footing, couldn’t find his stride in order to reach him. </p><p>Johnny’s reaction scared him. An uncomfortable, unkind, ugly truth settled into his gut. He <em> had </em>done something to push Johnny away.</p><p>He just had no idea what.</p><p>Now, he had two options. Leave Johnny be, go back to bed, let it all be goodbye.</p><p>Or try one more time, because if this was the end, then it didn’t matter. If he pressed Johnny out of shape, tied him in knots, folded back his edges a little in a last-ditch effort to figure out the truth, would it make any difference? </p><p>It would, to Roy.</p><p>But he still had to try.</p><p>He gave his partner a few minutes, then pushed himself off the couch.</p><p>The overhang of the station’s roof was enough to keep most of the rain off of him as he let his eyes adjust to the water-logged evening. Johnny was leaning up against the station, about twenty feet from the door. Roy slowly approached him.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Johnny. I didn’t mean to upset you.”</p><p>Johnny scoffed as he watched a puddle collect in front of them. “It’s not your fault.”</p><p>Roy couldn’t help the wan smile that grew on his face. “It’s not me it’s you?”</p><p>Johnny glanced up and sadly returned the smile. </p><p>“Does it really matter if you’re planning on never seeing me again, anyway?”</p><p>Johnny’s head fell, his eyes down to the side. “It matters, Roy,” he said softly. “It matters.”</p><p>“Tell me Johnny. Please.”</p><p>“Don’t make me do this.”</p><p>“Johnny. It’ll be okay.”</p><p>Johnny swallowed, pausing as if searching for words. “You – you’ll hate me.”</p><p>“I could never hate you. You’re being so obstinate. You know I could never hate you.”</p><p>“Y-You can’t promise – it’s better – just… <em> please</em>.” Johnny’s hands articulated in slices through the air, his fragmented sentences stabbing out with his distress. It cut into Roy, but he knew he was close.</p><p>Ignoring his better judgement and his own hurt feelings, he reached over and placed a hand on the nape of Johnny’s neck. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”</p><p>“Roy…” It was barely a whisper, and Johnny looked up and the misery on his face, the sound of his voice, was reminiscent of the rescues where they hadn’t been fast enough, good enough, just plain <em> enough </em>to stop the flames from licking and the blisters from bubbling and the blood from seeping, seeping into the floorboards, following felled dreams.</p><p>It hurt Roy so goddamned much.</p><p>Roy gave his partner’s neck a gentle squeeze. “I promise. It’s okay.”</p><p>There was a long moment where Johnny’s eyes flicked back and forth and Roy was certain he was going to dart again, that he wasn’t going to get an answer, that nothing short of wringing that long, graceful neck would get a response, a sound, anything, please anything.</p><p>Then Johnny closed his eyes and sighed. Roy could see his fists clenching, his jaw working, his heart fighting against whatever had him hemorrhaging right there, outside, against a fire station in the dark. </p><p>Then Johnny shakily exhaled and lifted his hand to grasp Roy’s wrist, slowly, like he was afraid to do so. His hold was tentative and trembling, like he expected Roy to buck him off, and he took a long breath, as if bracing himself, before finally, he raised his eyes to meet Roy’s.</p><p>Roy could feel Johnny’s pain, see the shape of it, and its edges were sharper than Johnny’s own sharp lines. There was something familiar about it, something that lanced into Roy like a pulse, like the occasional flashes of lightning that ached for their attention.</p><p>And suddenly, Roy knew. </p><p>His heart stopped and his lungs froze and all he could hear was static in his ears, in his brain and he knew.</p><p>“Oh Johnny, no,” The words fell and Roy’s hand pulled away in shock, and Johnny flinched, dropping his own hand and his head again, hearing rejection, hearing admonishment, hearing whatever it was he feared from Roy but it wasn’t that, it wasn’t that.</p><p>“Johnny please tell me that’s not why you’re leaving.”</p><p>Johnny didn’t respond, but Roy could see him shiver, could see him curl in, a blade of grass pressed stem to tip, wallpaper in a fully-involved fire, like this would singe him to cinder, another casualty of the city.</p><p>“Tell me <em> I’m </em> not why you’re leaving.”</p><p>Johnny made a noise that was half a whimper and half like breaking, the groan of the leftover skeleton of a house that they just couldn't save, they just couldn't satiate, and he made a move to get by Roy, but Roy grabbed his arm and forced him to stop and he did, frozen, and Roy knew he had never seen him so terrified.</p><p>“Oh Johnny. Oh you stupid, stupid son of a bitch,” Roy whispered in shock.</p><p>“I’m sorry – ” Johnny choked out.</p><p>“No, no, Johnny, no.”</p><p>Roy cupped the side of Johnny’s neck and Johnny flinched, but didn’t look at him, so Roy gently nudged him. “Johnny, look at me.”</p><p>It took a long moment, like Johnny was waiting him out, but Roy wasn’t going anywhere and Johnny finally did look at him, respirations quick, eyes wide and scared. </p><p>“Me too,” Roy whispered, searching his partner’s eyes.</p><p>Johnny’s eyes widened further. “What?”</p><p>Roy tightened his hold on his partner, projecting as much meaning as he could through touch, through the lifeline that was holding them together. “Me too.”</p><p>They stood there that way, a little bit stunned and a lot terrified, blue eyes on brown, unwilling to move or barely even breathe in case any shift would change the moment, make it untrue, bury it in the sky like steam, like smoke, like long nights in the dorm that went nowhere but to the mourning call of klaxons and sirens and wailing widows. </p><p>The rain drummed around them and it felt like it was filling Roy from the inside, and whatever happened in the next moment would either leave him floating or drowning. “Please don’t leave me, Johnny,” He whispered, voice cracking as he did and he leaned forward and pressed his lips to his partner’s like this was a dream that was about to dissipate into the air.</p><p>Roy could feel Johnny break, then, with the plaintive noise he made against Roy’s mouth and the way he fell into him, and if Roy had any uncertainty before it was gone because Johnny was kissing him back, and it was desperate and needing and a little bit like it was the end of it all, except – </p><p>Except it wasn’t.</p><p>Johnny’s cheeks were wet again and Roy didn’t care, it didn’t matter because after this moment he’d do anything to prevent that from happening again, and Johnny’s mouth was against his, <em> his mouth was against his </em> and through the shock he registered toothpaste and salt and his partner trembling and <em> it’s Johnny</em>. He was kissing Johnny.</p><p>Johnny’s arms found their way around Roy’s neck and he was clinging, and Roy could feel his jagged breathing against his chest as Roy pulled him closer, held him tighter.</p><p>Roy leaned Johnny into the brick wall as his teeth found Johnny’s bottom lip and he knew he had to stop, he had to stop before he bit too hard because goddamn him for putting them through this, and he had to stop before someone caught them and he had to stop or he’d never stop again.</p><p>He finally pulled away and sighed, settling his forehead against his partner’s. “Don’t you dare leave me,” he growled, frustrated and excited and terrified and relieved.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Roy, I’m sorry–”</p><p>“It’s okay, we’re okay,” Roy murmured.</p><p>“I-I didn't know. I didn’t know.”</p><p>“You shoulda told me. Even if… even if I didn’t… you’re still my best friend. We woulda worked through it.” </p><p>“I know, I know.”</p><p>“But you <em>didn’t</em> know,” Roy exclaimed. </p><p>Johnny pulled back a little, shamefaced.</p><p>“I can't <em> believe </em>you were gonna run.” Roy growled.</p><p>“Are you mad, Roy?” Johnny asked softly, dropping his head.</p><p>“Yes, dammit,” Roy said and nudged him gently against the wall. And he <em> was</em>. He was righteously pissed that he’d almost lost Johnny over this, over his partner’s frustrating insecurities, over something that happened in Johnny’s brain that he’d have to look harder at in the light of day but he was relieved and thrilled and a million other things too. He pulled Johnny close by the strap of his bunkers, forcing him to look back up. “But it's okay, we’re okay.”</p><p>And then they were kissing again, they were getting wet from the rain and it was cold and it was late but Johnny was kissing him, Johnny felt the same way, Johnny wasn’t going to leave him and that was all that mattered, was all that would matter ever again. </p><p>They broke apart and Johnny sighed and wrapped his arms around Roy’s neck again, hugging him tight. Roy revelled in the feel of that slightly damp mop of hair pressing against his face, in the warmth of Johnny’s shivering body pressed up against his, in the wake of possibilities rising with the rain collecting on the ground that made the past few hours and days and weeks worth every single sharp pang of uncertainty. </p><p>There was only one thing standing in their way.</p><p>“First thing in the morning,” Roy said.</p><p>“I know, I know,” Johnny said into his neck. “I’ll get it back.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So it's worth mentioning that I *know* that although Carson is considered to be part of LA or the greater LA area, it is *not* part of the City of LA. I clearly ignored that specificity for the sake of imagery and... I stand by it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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